


Square Peg, Round Hole (We Remade Ourselves Until We Fit)

by madsthenerdygirl



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alpha Flynn, Alpha Lucy, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Because That's What You All Are Really Here For, F/M, Flynn is So Proud of His Mates, Have You Seen His Perfect Mates?, Lucy is Alpha as Fuck, Lucy is a Penguin, M/M, Multi, Omega Wyatt, One Shot Collection, Overprotective Lucy and Flynn, Too Bad He's Gonna Tell You About Them, Wyatt is an Insecure Puppy, but mostly it's just fluff, go me, i wrote this at midnight, no?, so proud, yes there is smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:17:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: The further ridiculous adventures of our omega!verse Trash OT3.





	1. Courting

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to Drag Me Down (Wear Me Out) but you can read this separately as long as you know that Alpha Lucy, Alpha Flynn, and Omega Wyatt are in a happily mated polyamorous relationship.
> 
> Also: Denise, Jiya, and Mason are all alphas. Jess was a beta. Rufus is an omega.

None of them noticed it at first—or at least not the reason why.

At first, it was just little things. Lucy had a habit of finding little gifts on their trips to give to Wyatt, almost like a penguin presenting their mate with rocks. A chain for the pocket watch that Wyatt wore when they went back in time. A dark green tie that contrasted well with his blue eyes. A toy car.

She sometimes got Flynn things too, like a bag of that coffee he liked from the 1950s, so it took a while for Wyatt to notice that the gifts had increased, and that Flynn had started to provide in his own way.

While Lucy feathered the nest, so to speak, Flynn would do things like draw Wyatt a bath, or make him his favorite chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, or give Wyatt a shoulder massage. Acts of service.

The problem was, everything that one of them did, meant that the other one had to do something as well. If Lucy brought Wyatt a gift, Flynn had to offer to wash Wyatt’s hair. If Flynn made Wyatt an omelet, Lucy had to order Wyatt some new books on German mythology off the internet.

It was only when Wyatt woke up feeling oddly thirsty and he checked the calendar that he realized what it was.

His heat was coming on.

His mates were, whether they realized it or not, competing with one another to take care of him best. Showing Wyatt what good mates they were, how well they would provide for him, reminding him why he should choose to mate with them as his heat cycle approached.

Wyatt could almost get used to the pampering, but he found it insanely amusing that neither Flynn nor Lucy seemed to realize that was what they were doing.

“Have either of you noticed anything different lately?” he asked one night. They were in bed and he could feel the heat slowly building inside of him, making his skin itch, making him want to bare his throat and beg to be marked again.

Lucy was reading a book on the Jin-Song Wars in China. She looked up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… how you and Flynn are being.”

Lucy shrugged. “I haven’t noticed anything.”

Flynn was lying on his side, idly running his fingers up and down Wyatt’s bare torso. That was another thing they’d been doing—touching him a lot more lately. Scent-marking him. “Not that I—” he froze. Looked up. “Oh.”

“Oh what?” Lucy asked.

But Flynn had been mated before. “I’m an idiot.” He looked at Lucy. “He’s going into heat. Didn’t you think maybe you’ve been giving him a lot of gifts lately?”

“I’m taking care of my mate,” Lucy replied stubbornly.

“Because he’s going into heat,” Flynn repeated.

Lucy set down her book and leaned into Wyatt, nosing at his neck, inhaling deeply. Wyatt watched her eyes go wide and dark as she pulled back. “You’re right.” She smiled, sharp and predatory, and Wyatt’s heart sped up in anticipation. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

So yes. Apparently he was going to be competitively pampered for a week or so every three months.

Wyatt was definitely not complaining.


	2. Wyatt Has a Cold

Wyatt woke up with a stuffed nose, a sore throat, and a pounding headache as the bunker alarm went off and thought _oh shit_.

“Sweetheart?” Lucy said, already dressed. “Hey, Wyatt, time to get up. We gotta go.”

“You’re gonna have to count me out,” Wyatt confessed.

“You sound awful,” Flynn admitted.

“Thanks, babe.”

Flynn put a hand to Wyatt’s forehead. “One of us should stay. I can make you soup. Do we have medicine?”

“Why are you three taking so long?” Rufus demanded, appearing in the doorway.

Both Lucy and Flynn growled at him. “Wyatt has a cold,” Lucy snapped in her Alpha voice.

“Whoa, Jesus, okay,” Rufus said, putting his hands up. “He’s not dying. We can go with just three or take Jiya along.”

“One of us should take care of him,” Flynn said.

“Take it up with Denise,” Rufus replied. “But we need at least one gun and we need a historian so I think you two are gonna have to hold the nursemaid routine for a few hours. If you ask me, what he’ll need most is sleep.”

Neither Flynn nor Lucy looked happy about this, but when Denise let out an Alpha roar from the main room, they scampered to obey. “We’ll be back to take care of you,” Lucy promised, kissing him on the temple as Flynn tucked him in with blankets.

Wyatt just nodded, already falling asleep again.

Having a cold with just Denise around was actually nice. She was a mom and knew how to quietly keep him supplied with soup and water and medicine, checking up on him every so often but not bothering him.

Having a cold with two overprotective alpha mates was an entirely different scenario.

Lucy and Flynn wouldn’t stop fussing over him. Was he too hot, was he too cold, did he need more liquids, was he hungry, and so on.

“I will kick you two out,” he said at one point, and despite how rough and scratchy his voice was from his sore throat something of his seriousness must have shown through because they finally settled down a little.

Lucy curled up with him, her smaller body fitting perfectly into the curve of his, lending him her body heat. Flynn sat up with him, running a hand soothingly through his hair, absentmindedly reading or scrolling through the internet on his laptop.

“You know you two try too hard sometimes, right?” Wyatt asked sleepily. “You do… just fine. You’re good mates. I’m not going to…” He yawned. “…leave or anything. You take good care of me.”

“It’s hard to get rid of it sometimes,” Flynn admitted as Lucy bumped her nose to Wyatt’s. “The urge to please you. The fear that you’ll fail as a mate.”

“You’re perfect,” Wyatt murmured, holding still so Lucy could pepper soft lazy kisses over his face. “I promise.”

Flynn ran his hand soothingly through Wyatt’s hair. “We’ll do our best to remember that,” he said, his voice low and lulling Wyatt back into sleep, Lucy a warm weight against his chest.


	3. Even Alphas Get Colds

Wyatt should have guessed that having Lucy and Flynn taking care of him constantly would result in their getting colds as well.

But he couldn’t have guessed how much he would enjoy the shoe being on the other foot.

Lucy was the crankiest sick person Wyatt had ever met. Flynn just wanted to sleep. And Wyatt found that he actually liked being the one to take care of them, the one to fluff Lucy’s pillows and bribe her into eating her soup, the one to hold Flynn’s hand because he had nightmares from fever and would wake up panicked.

He had never bought into the whole “omegas are domestic” bullshit. He was an omega and he couldn’t be domestic to save his life. He hated cleaning, cooking was beyond his skill level, and he loved kids but was awkward with them because, y’know, shitty father who hadn’t taught him how to be good with them.

But he did really, really like getting to take care of his mates. Wrapping his arms around Lucy and feeling her happy little sigh and how her muscles relaxed made something warm and fuzzy curl up in his chest, and the way Flynn leaned into him as he sipped at his soup and gave Wyatt a tired smile made Wyatt feel an odd surge of pride.

He’d been shit at being a family member. He’d been a shit son—according to his dad, anyway—and he’d been a shit husband to Jess despite his best efforts, and he’d screwed things up quite a few times as a part of this team.

But now it felt like he was actually doing good, being a good mate, a good pack member, someone they could rely on, someone who could actually take proper care of the people that he loved.

He stayed up all night, making sure that nobody had to throw up, that all medicine was on hand, and that Lucy and Flynn stayed hydrated. He felt kind of bad for being cranky about their hovering when he had been sick—it felt like he couldn’t even leave the room or he’d miss out on one or both of them needing him. If this was what it had been like for them while he was sick, he could forgive their overprotectiveness.

When at last their colds dissipated, Wyatt expected a bit of a lecture or some alpha posturing. Not that Flynn or Lucy behaved like stereotypical alphas, but they were confident and protective of their independence, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d protested that they didn’t need to be taken care of that whole time.

But instead he got a storm of sweet kisses from Lucy and Flynn carefully scent marking Wyatt since their scent had gone a little stale in the days during the cold. He got Lucy volunteering to wash the sheets and whispering in his ear so that Rufus couldn’t hear that she had the very best omega. He got Flynn rumbling a thank you as he buried his nose into Wyatt’s neck, murmuring a moment later that he’d hated having a stopped-up nose because it had meant he couldn’t smell Wyatt properly.

He was _praised_. He was _thanked_.

“You aren’t… annoyed?” he asked.

Flynn pulled back, surprised. “Why would I be annoyed? You took care of us. It’s what mates do.”

“You’re the alphas. You’re supposed to take care of me.”

“We take care of each other.” Flynn nosed back in along Wyatt’s neck, apparently unable to stop himself. “You’re not helpless and we wouldn’t want you to be.”

“But I’m not… I’m not all… domestic.”

“I don’t care if you burn water,” Flynn replied. “You looked after us because you care and that’s what matters. We love you for you, not because we want a pretty little omega. We want Wyatt.”

Something eased up in his chest and Wyatt inhaled deeply, turning his head so that he could catch Flynn’s scent too. “Got it?” Flynn growled.

“Okay.”

Lucy came back in from putting the sheets in the laundry, bouncing onto the bed and settling herself in Wyatt’s lap, pulling Flynn into her so that she could inhale both their scents. “I can _smell_ you two again, thank God.” She cooed and nipped playfully at their necks. “My boys.”

Wyatt let that band in his chest continue to loosen. He wasn’t good at this. He wasn’t… practiced, at it. But they were happy with him. They were proud of him. Unsure and stumbling as he was.

And, well, if he looked forward to other opportunities after that to take care of Lucy and Flynn the way that they took care of him... now he knew how much he liked it. Now he knew they'd actually want it.

He could work with that.


	4. Lucy is a Penguin

Flynn looked up as Lucy walked past him with another load of laundry. “Didn’t you do the sheets last week?”

“They got dirty again.”

“Not _that_ dirty.”

Lucy just shrugged and continued on.

Flynn went back to reading on the couch.

About twenty minutes later Lucy walked by again, this time with a rock in each hand. “Which one is better?”

Flynn stared at her. “You’re asking me which rock is better.”

“This one’s from when we were on the beach on D-Day. This one’s from Hawaii at Pearl Harbor.”

“And you’re trying to decide between them because…”

“Wyatt was really awesome on those missions and he’s been feeling a bit down lately. I thought reminding him of those missions and how well he did would cheer him up.”

Flynn stared at her. “Lucy?”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember—I don’t know how they did this in school in America but in high school I learned in Sex Ed class that people will have different mating behavior.”

“Right. Stereotypical alpha mating behavior is aggression and possession,” Lucy replied, her tone suggesting just how distasteful that idea was to her.

It was why people expressed surprise when they learned that Lucy and Flynn were both alphas. A polyamorous relationship that was one alpha and then two betas, or two omegas, or a beta and an omega, that people could get behind. But many people still couldn’t understand how two alphas could exist in a relationship without constantly jockeying to be the one in ‘control’.

“Yes. But, ah, did you hear about the whole… penguin kind of mating rituals?”

Lucy looked at him blankly.

Flynn sighed. “The gifts. The compulsive cleaning of the bedroom to make it nice. The rocks. Lucy. You’re a penguin.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Lucy huffed, walking off.

Two hours and one documentary on penguins later…

“All right,” Lucy said, walking back into the room, “I’m a penguin. But you are a wolf.” She ticked off on her fingers. “Subservient to the female, lots of touching, acts of service like bringing food and massages and washing hair.”

Flynn shrugged. “You don’t hear me denying it.”

Lucy grinned, plucking the book out of his hands and sliding into his lap. “So, about that ‘being subservient to the female’ thing…”

Flynn wrapped his arms around her waist and stood up in one smooth motion, causing Lucy to gasp in surprise and cling to his shoulders. “Well, I do hear that the bed has nice warm clean sheets on it now.”

Lucy nuzzled at his throat, where her and Wyatt’s mating bites stood out purple against the skin. “Then take me there.”

Much (much) later, Wyatt poked a dozing Flynn in the shoulder. “Garcia.”

“Hmm?”

Wyatt held up one of the small rocks. “Any reason why Lucy seems fond of giving me these?”

Flynn just chuckled. “She’s a penguin.”

“What—Garcia, wake up—what does that mean? Garcia!”


	5. Speed Bumps

Nothing much had changed since Wyatt had gone into a badly-timed heat and Flynn and Lucy had learned that he was not, in fact, a beta as he had been letting everyone believe but was actually an omega.

However, he had been starting to notice that when they went into a fight against someone—police or Rittenhouse usually—on a mission, Flynn had been… well… annoyingly protective of him.

“Did you really have to do that?” Wyatt spat as they got out of the Lifeboat.

“He was aiming for you.”

“And I saw him, Flynn, I was going to dodge—”

“You’re acting like it’s a bad thing that I yanked you out of the way—”

“I was a soldier, Flynn!” Wyatt yelled. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see everyone quickly clearing out except for Lucy, who was quietly brewing some coffee and getting out three mugs. “I was one of the damn best, I don’t need to be protected!”

“It’s not like I can just turn it off!” Flynn snapped. “I protect Lucy too.”

“You never did this before,” Wyatt growled. “You never did it when you thought I was—before you knew I was—”

“An omega?” Flynn growled, getting right in Wyatt’s face. “It’s not because you’re an omega, Wyatt, it’s because you’re my mate now. Everything in me _screams_ to take care of you, just like it screams for me to take care of Lucy.”

Wyatt hadn’t thought of it that way. “I… you, you still can’t—I’m a fighter, it’s what I’m good at. Please. There are other ways to take care of me, but I can’t have you—I won’t feel useless in a fight. I won’t.” He hated how his voice cracked. “Not when it’s all I’m good for.”

“What?” The rage drained out of Flynn and he stepped in, cupping Wyatt’s face in his hands. “That’s not all you’re good for. Far from it.” His thumbs swiped softly back and forth over Wyatt’s cheeks. “I’ll—I’ll try. It’s—it’s instinct, it won’t be easy. But I know. I know you can take care of yourself. But you—you’re good for so much more than just a gun.”

Lucy cleared her throat, and Wyatt turned to see her sitting at the table with the coffee. “If you two would like to come over here, we could talk about this like adults?” she said, smiling softly.

Wyatt nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I didn’t mean… I know you don’t… care about the whole omega thing.”

Flynn pulled him into his side as they walked over to join Lucy. “You have a right to show off your skills. And I will… I’ll hold myself back, I’ll let you do your thing. I just don’t want you thinking that your fight skills are the only reason we need you.”

Wyatt had been a fighter for so long, though—what else could he possibly be?

Lucy pushed the coffee mugs towards them, sipping at her own. “All right,” she said. “Let’s work through this.”

And, like everything, they did.


	6. Stuck

Lucy’s tongue slid into Wyatt’s mouth as she kissed him fiercely, possessively, running a hand through his hair while the other pressed down on his chest, keeping him pinned to the mattress as Flynn fucked into him.

Wyatt moaned as Flynn thrust a few more times, before rolling his hips and all but shoving himself inside of Wyatt—and then Wyatt felt the telltale swelling, the press and stretch that always felt borderline too much, as Flynn started to knot him.

It took him by surprise. Flynn rarely knotted him or Lucy outside of when Wyatt was in heat or Flynn or Lucy was in an alpha rut. But Wyatt’s body was made to take this, just as Lucy’s was, and he dug his fingers into Lucy’s hair and Flynn’s shoulder as he came, reveling in the way Flynn filled him up.

They all lay there for a moment, catching their breaths. Lucy had come earlier and was more in control of herself than the men, lying back on the pillows and fondly running her fingers over Flynn and Wyatt’s skin, smiling tiredly at the both of them.

Wyatt settled himself on his side, Flynn twisting until he was a warm, heavy weight against Wyatt’s back, his arm slung over Wyatt’s side. They’d be like this for another twenty minutes at least. Flynn’s knots during his own ruts went down quickly as he wasn’t sated, and they went down quickly when it was Wyatt in heat or Lucy in rut because his body recognized that his mate wasn’t satisfied and needed more. But on the rare times it happened outside of that, it took much longer to go down. Wyatt figured he had time for a nap.

And then someone started banging on the door.

“Guys!” It was Rufus. “Denise has called a meeting!”

Wyatt’s blood froze.

Lucy started laughing so hard she nearly fell off the bed.

“Guys?”

“I’ll be right out!” Lucy called gaily, reaching for her clothes.

“Lucy…” Flynn said desperately.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Lucy was positively too gleeful about this. “You two can just stay here and I’ll give Denise your sincere regrets.”

Wyatt grabbed a pillow and buried his head in it so that maybe he could suffocate and die before he had to endure the humiliation.

“Lucy, c’mon,” he moaned.

She just blew them both a kiss. “See you in half an hour!”

“I’m getting you back for this!” Flynn yelled at her as she skipped out the door.

“I’m counting on it, handsome!”

“Where are the other two?” Wyatt heard Rufus asked.

“They’re a little… tied up at the moment,” Lucy replied.

“Just kill me,” Wyatt told Flynn.

“Oh no, I need you alive so you can help me get revenge.”

Wyatt groaned and privately resigned himself to weeks of teasing from Rufus, who had the perfect alpha who never knotted him right when Denise called a damn meeting.

Flynn kissed the back of his neck and tightened his arm around Wyatt. “Don’t worry. It’ll blow over.”

Yeah, Wyatt thought sourly. Eventually.


	7. Alpha and Pregnant

It took them much longer than it should have to realize the reason for Lucy’s change in mood.

It started with the food cravings.

“Can you bring back more pickles?” Lucy asked when Denise was taking requests for the next food shipment. “Lots of pickles. And chocolate. Good chocolate, not just Hershey’s.”

Flynn and Wyatt stared at her. Lucy hadn’t ever eaten a pickle in her life, as far as either of them knew. And while she liked chocolate, she wasn’t a fiend about it.

Next was the horniness.

“Are you sure you’re not in rut?” Flynn asked, sniffing her as she cornered him in the shower, kissing hungrily all over his chest and shoulders, going up onto her tiptoes.

“Positive. Are you seriously complaining that I want you to fuck me?” Lucy replied, rolling her hips and sliding her hands all over him.

And, well, Flynn wasn’t about to complain over that at all, so he caught her up in his arms and gave her what she was asking for.

It wasn’t until Denise brought some of her mom’s cooking to the bunker and the smell of it made Lucy throw up, however, that the three of them put two and two together.

“You’re _pregnant_?” Wyatt yelped.

Lucy paced up and down the bedroom. “Apparently.”

“Do we have any idea what effect time travel has on pregnancy?” Flynn asked.

Lucy shook her head. “I’m not stopping going on missions.”

“We wouldn’t ask you to.”

“You’re pregnant?” Wyatt repeated.

“We’re going to act like everything is normal,” Lucy went on, giving them quelling glares. “No making me take a backseat, nothing like that.”

“Whatever you say,” Flynn replied, glancing over at Wyatt, who was still gaping.

Turned out, Lucy as a pregnant alpha was scary as fuck.

All of her alpha traits that had been dormant or nonexistent suddenly sprung to vivid life. She was in command during missions like never before. When they ran into Emma one time, Lucy snarled at her without a moment’s hesitation, and even went so far as to call Emma a ‘backstabbing coldhearted bitch’, something that made the redheaded alpha blink in complete surprise.

She had absolutely no problem bossing Flynn and Wyatt around at home, either. One time she leveled a look at Wyatt and told him to strip and Wyatt could literally feel the omega in him perking up like yes ma’am of course ma’am whatever you say ma’am. Even Flynn was acting completely submissive, baring his throat and no trace of his alpha voice to be found.

Oddly enough, her protectiveness had increased as well. Wyatt and Flynn were both worried about her physical safety, obviously, but that was nothing new. What was new was when a Rittenhouse agent took a shot at Flynn and Lucy kicked him in the face, knocking him down and putting the heel of her boot on his throat, pressing down and growling at him while the agent clawed at her leg, eyes wide in fear. Or when Wyatt was injured during a riot and Lucy snatched a baton from one policeman’s hands and used it to whack the policeman who’d hurt Wyatt in the face until he was bloody and Flynn had to haul her back.

“Remind me to never, ever get Jiya pregnant,” Rufus said in horror at one point. “If Lucy’s this bad, can you imagine what Jiya’s going to be like? We’re adopting.”

Then there was the nesting. The walls of their bunker bedroom weren’t cheery enough. The bed wasn’t soft enough. They needed more supplies for the baby. Choosing a crib took weeks of shopping on the internet.

And of course, there was when Lucy would shake one of them awake, or both, whispering about how hot she was, how much she needed it, please, please, she needed it so badly. Her pheromones were flooding Wyatt and Flynn’s nostrils, similar to when she was in rut, telling them to mount her, to fill her up, to please her. It was almost impossible to ignore her as she pressed up against them and begged them, and no matter how tired they were they always ended up giving in.

“I can’t wait until we can sleep through the night again,” Wyatt mumbled at one point.

“If you think the baby coming means we’ll be sleeping through the night,” Flynn replied, clearly remembering Iris, “then you’ve got another think coming.”

The biggest concern was, of course, just how many babies Lucy would be having. Two or three pups was the most common. Lorena had been unusual in only giving birth to Iris. The problem was that both Flynn and Wyatt had been have sex with Lucy regularly. It wouldn’t be the first time that a woman with multiple mates gave birth to four or five pups because she’d gotten pregnant by two mates at the same time.

By the sixth month, Denise had put her foot down: no more missions.

To say that Lucy went stir crazy was an understatement.

She was snapping, cranky, claustrophobic, either not wanting to be touched or wanting to be fucked hard, rough, savage, working out her frustration that way. She cried at food commercials and could hardly sleep through the night.

And then she was shaking Flynn awake.

“Garcia. Garcia it’s—my water broke, Garcia!”

Flynn was awake in seconds. “Wyatt! Call Denise!” There was a secure line they could call Denise on in case of an emergency when she was gone.

Wyatt was up and out of bed like a rocket, rousing Jiya along the way so that she could run in and help.

No one was aware until that night just how many swear words Lucy knew, and in so many languages. She gripped Flynn’s and Wyatt’s hands and called them every name in the book, swearing that they’d done this to her and she was going to cut them both new ones so that they would know an iota of the pain that she was going through, just wait, just _wait_ —

There ended up being three of them.

Ethan, Maria, and Amy.

All three had soft dark hair, but Maria’s eyes were a bright blue while Ethan’s and Amy’s were big and dark.

“And I suppose I’ll be stuck on babysitting duty while you three are flying through time,” Mason noted, his tone grouchy but his eyes soft as Wyatt deposited a sleeping Ethan into his arms.

“It’s not like you’re doing anything anyway,” Flynn snarked, sitting in bed with an exhausted and half-asleep Lucy in his arms.

“Mess up my babies and die,” Lucy mumbled.

And that was when Flynn and Wyatt realized—

Lucy the pregnant alpha was scary.

Lucy the _mother_ alpha was going to be fucking terrifying to behold.


	8. Rut

It wasn’t that Wyatt had forgotten that alphas had ruts.

It was just that Jess had been a beta. He’d never experienced a rut before.

And so when he woke up to Flynn kissing him and sliding a hand between his legs he just thought, huh, early morning, no big deal.

But then Lucy woke up, and instead of letting her take over the way Flynn usually did, he growled and pressed her down into the mattress, pinning her wrists down and biting hard into the skin of her neck, where the mating bite was.

That was unusual.

“Lucy?” Wyatt asked, unsure what to do. Flynn was an alpha all right, anyone who’d seen him in a fight—or, to be honest, had seen him interact with Wyatt—could attest to that. But he always deferred to Lucy, was happy to let her gently direct things. To be so openly possessive with her was… something Wyatt hadn’t seen before.

Lucy growled, flipping Flynn over and pinning him down, her eyes going dark. “Flynn,” she barked in her Alpha voice.

Flynn just growled right back at her. Lucy bit down on his neck, at her mating bite, growling in the back of her throat until Flynn went pliant, making soft submissive noises.

Lucy pulled back, panting hard. “Wyatt, go find Denise. Tell her we’re going to be busy for a day or two.”

Wyatt reached for his bathrobe. “Why?”

Lucy gave him an _I love you but you’re an idiot_ look. “Flynn’s in a rut.”

Over time, after mating, an alpha’s ruts were supposed to line up with their omega’s heats. Wyatt’s heat had completely exhausted Lucy and Flynn last time and there’d been two of them to cater to him. The heats and ruts syncing up meant that the hormones would keep each partner energized and, well, consistently turned on enough to satisfy each other. There’d be less of a chance of one partner tiring too soon. Wyatt had heard stories, back in the old days, of the partner who wasn’t in rut or heat dying from exhaustion. But then, he’d also heard stories of partners synced up who died because they’d been so caught up in lust they hadn’t eaten or stayed hydrated, so. It was all about knowing when the heat and/or rut was coming and preparing for it.

But Flynn hadn’t been mated since Lorena had died. Hadn’t even had sex until he, Wyatt, and Lucy had come together. It must be for him the way it had been for Wyatt’s heat, suppressed and now catching him by surprise.

Denise was less than pleased. “It won’t be as bad as my heat,” Wyatt promised. It had been a long time for Flynn but he hadn’t been on suppressants the way that Wyatt had. He knew what to expect. “It’ll only be a day or two.”

“Get an extra mattress and put it up against the door,” Denise told him. “It’ll muffle the sounds. I’m not clearing everyone out of the bunker again, it was enough of a risk last time. I’ll accompany Jiya and Rufus if the alarm sounds. And you’d better stock up on food and water.”

Oh yeah. Wyatt was definitely doing that.

Flynn was in no mood to be patient while Lucy and Wyatt got supplies. Lucy had to keep Alpha growling at him, asserting her dominance to get him to wait on the bed. He pouted the whole time.

“Was this what I was like?” Wyatt asked.

“You were worse,” Lucy assured him.

When they were finally ready, Wyatt looked over at Lucy.

She looked over at Flynn. “All right,” she cooed, dropping her Alpha voice.

Flynn was on her in an instant, growling, running his hands all over her before picking her up and carrying her over to the bed. Once she was safely deposited and kissed to Flynn’s satisfaction he yanked Wyatt over as well. Wyatt went pliant, shaking a little as Flynn nosed up his neck, lapping at the mating bite and making a pleased rumble in the back of his throat.

“You like that?” Wyatt asked, baring his throat. “It’s yours. Means I’m yours, your mate.”

Flynn’s growl increased in volume. He nipped at the mark, then kissed Wyatt hard until Wyatt was dizzy, pulling away to gasp for breath.

When omegas were in heat they wanted to be claimed. Taken. Wyatt had fucked Lucy a few times but mostly it was Flynn fucking him, or Lucy with the strap on. When an alpha was in rut, however, they wanted to take.

For once, Lucy let Flynn do what he wanted with her, only commanding when it was absolutely necessary. Usually she was on top, riding him, but now she let him roll them, let him fuck into her hard and fast, hooking her ankles behind his back and whispering in his ear, her nails scratching down his back.

Wyatt wasn’t fully in heat but sometimes it felt like he was, the way he shivered and whimpered in the back of his throat as Flynn touched him, bared his throat, told Flynn to mark him up—wanted to be marked, wanted to give into Flynn’s dominance. That certainly wasn’t anything new, Wyatt was a sucker for both Flynn and Lucy dominating him, but the desperation in Flynn’s eyes was definitely new. It felt like in a way Wyatt was more in control that Flynn was, because Flynn was stuck in a cloud of hormones, his brain trapped in that cycle of _take take take mate mark mine_.

It was impossible not to respond to it. Wyatt could see Lucy reacting to it too, to the heightened smell of Flynn, the way her eyes went dark and she buried her nose into the side of his neck, the desperate noises she made as she told Flynn to take her again, fill her up like a good alpha.

Wyatt thought Flynn was going to really lose it when Lucy took his hand and put it low on her stomach. “C’mon,” she told him. “Knock me up. Fuck me ‘til I have to get pregnant, fuck me ‘til my body’s got no choice.”

(Later on, when Lucy did in fact get knocked up, Wyatt swore that this rut was the cause of it. Lucy then smacked him with a pillow.)

Seeing it from the other side of things was a bit of a revelation. In heat, Wyatt hadn’t been aware of time, of space, of anything other than the desperate need clawing at his chest from the inside. Now he could see how out of control Flynn was, how restless, how much he wanted to rest even though his body wouldn’t let him.

It made something vital tear open in his chest and towards the end of it he’d cradle Flynn, run his hands through his hair, plant kisses all over his face as Flynn whined helplessly, exhausted but unable to stop, continuing to fuck into Wyatt like he didn't know anything else.

“You’re doing so well,” Wyatt promised him. “You’re doing so well, I promise, you feel so good.”

A couple of times Flynn got too rough, slamming in and making Wyatt gasp with a little more pain than pleasure. Lucy would always be there in the blink of an eye, growling and biting down on Flynn’s neck, vibrating with dominance. Somewhere in Flynn’s psyche he was still Flynn, still more person than instinct, and he would go limp in Lucy’s grasp.

“Drink water,” Lucy would growl, or, “Let Wyatt rest,” or, “I said I’m _tired_ Flynn, fuck Wyatt this time.”

Flynn would growl unhappily but he would bow his head and always obey.

The one good thing were the knots. They didn’t stay for too long, but it helped Wyatt and Lucy snatch a bit of sleep here and there, drink some water and eat some protein bars—and force Flynn to do the same.

By the time the rut started to die down, Wyatt was pretty sure he was bruised all over. But he was hardwired, through love and through personality, to respond to Flynn and so every time no matter how tired he’d cling to him, bare his throat when Flynn wanted to bite down, say “yours, yes, your mate” whenever Flynn growled _mine, my mate, my pretty mate_.

Finally, Flynn sank into a proper sleep.

“It’s over,” Lucy murmured, kissing her way down Flynn’s spine, soothing him. She looked up at Wyatt, wincing a little as she moved. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’m not walking for a week,” Wyatt admitted. There was so much come dried on the inside of his thighs and so much sweat clinging to his skin that he felt like he needed to shower for a whole day.

Lucy laughed softly, rubbing her hand up and down Flynn’s back and reaching her other hand out to Wyatt. “Come here.”

Wyatt leaned in so that she could nuzzle him and kiss his cheeks, his nose, his mouth. “You did so well.”

“I had no idea what I was doing. I’ve never… had to do that for anyone, before.”

Lucy cupped his cheek. “You were perfect. The very best.”

Wyatt ducked his head, his face heating up as he blushed. It was stupid, but he loved when Lucy or Flynn praised him.

“What do we do now?”

“Sleep.” Lucy yawned, then lay down, tucking herself into Flynn’s side. He pulled her into him, skin hungry even in sleep.

Wyatt lay down as well, exhaustion taking over. Flynn stirred, eyes opening blearily. He gave Wyatt a tired smile and pulled him in, turning over onto his back so that Wyatt could rest his head on Flynn’s shoulder and Lucy could curl up on Flynn’s chest.

Already he could feel Flynn’s body temperature going down. Hopefully, next time Flynn’s rut would line up with Wyatt’s heat, and this would be easier for both of them.

But until then, he sank against Flynn’s side, tangled up with his alphas, and slept.


	9. Scent Marking

It was just little things.

Lucy would brush her wrists against Wyatt’s and Flynn’s as she walked past, and would steal their clothes, either to wear or just to rub her face in before Wyatt and Flynn put them on.

Flynn would nose up Wyatt’s and Lucy’s necks, growling softly, purring almost, or else he would run his hands up their arms, up their sides.

Wyatt would press himself up against them whenever he could, wrapping his arms around Flynn from behind when Flynn was cooking, or curling up with Lucy on the couch until their limbs were entwined.

Lucy hadn’t known, hadn’t ever been mated before, hadn’t realized the sheer need to mark up her mates, to carry their scent with her and to know that they carried hers. To feel wrapped up in them even when they were far away, and to know that anyone who met them could smell that they were claimed, they were _hers_.

It was such a little thing. Something small, honestly, nothing compared to the bigger things, like how Flynn would submit to her, or how Wyatt trusted her. But it settled something deep inside of her when she would sniff one of them and smell all three scents mingled on their skin. She’d hop out of the shower and straight into their arms to get their scent back on her, their skin against hers more home than any four walls.

Sometimes, it felt like she could be blinded and she’d still know them anywhere, could find them in any crowd, by following the mixed smell of their scents and hers.

And that was just how she liked it. Because they belonged to each other, and now everyone who ran into them would know it.

It was just a little thing.

But sometimes it was the little things that made all the difference.


	10. Obvious

Flynn was washing his hands in a bucket when Washington approached him.

It was a much younger Washington than the one he’d run into before. At the age of nineteen, Washington was given command of a band of men who were ambushed by the French in the French and Indian War. Most of the men died, but Washington had miraculously survived unscathed.

Rittenhouse had sought to change that.

Flynn, Lucy, Wyatt, and Rufus had escorted him safely back to the British fort, and were now cleaning up before heading back to the Lifeboat.

“Your mate is impressive,” Washington noted, nodding towards Lucy. “I have to admit, I’ve never seen two alphas together before.”

Flynn turned, smiling to see Lucy finally sitting still and allowing Wyatt to bandage her arm. She’d gotten grazed by a musket ball earlier, and none of them wanted a repeat of the close call after Salem.

“She’s my redemption,” Flynn said simply.

Washington nodded. “Your other mate is feisty for an omega. I am surprised that he fights with you.”

Flynn silently reminded himself that even a man as great as Washington was still a product of his time. Omegas were for centuries considered weak, soft, fit for domestic work.

Then he registered what Washington was also saying. Normally people thought Flynn and Wyatt, or Lucy and Wyatt, were mates—the traditional alpha/omega dynamic. A few people thought Flynn and Lucy were mates.

But rarely did anyone realize it was all three of them.

“Wyatt is a trained soldier,” Flynn replied. “I always trust him to have my back in battle. But—pardon me, captain,” Washington wouldn’t be ‘general’ for a few years yet, “how could you tell that it was the three of us?”

Washington chuckled. “Can most people not? I thought it was rather… obvious, if you’ll forgive me. Anyone could see how devoted to each other you are.”

Flynn could feel his face heating up in a way that it rarely did and looked over at Lucy and Wyatt again. Wyatt was finishing bandaging her and Lucy was smiling at him, saying something that was making Wyatt blush and laugh.

He loved them so much his heart fairly ached with it.

“You three seem happy together,” Washington added.

He sounded wistful. Washington’s marriage was one of deep respect, and he was completely devoted to his two stepchildren, but historians often argued over just how much he loved his wife Martha. Some said enough. Some said not at all.

Flynn nodded. “We are.”

There were good days and bad. Wyatt struggled now that he was off his suppressants and recognized as an omega—especially when they went back in time and he found himself in a similar boat to Lucy as a woman and Rufus as a black man, talked over, ignored, or spoken down to. Rittenhouse sometimes won. Lucy would have nightmares about once every couple of weeks, either about losing them or about Amy, and would wake up crying uncontrollably. Flynn couldn’t stop the guilt that sometimes crept in, the ache that was the loss of Lorena and Iris, his fear that he’d lose his second family like he’d lost his first.

But they loved each other. They were his mates, and he would die for them. He could smell them on his skin, could see his mating bite on their necks and feel theirs on his when he touched his neck. He loved them fiercely, and they were together.

Washington smiled at him, clapping him on the shoulder. “Take it from me, a family is not a thing to take for granted.”

Washington’s stepdaughter would die when she was only a teenager, choking on her dinner during an epilepsy fit, passing away in Washington’s arms.

Flynn nodded. “I won’t,” he promised.

He walked over to Lucy and Wyatt, pulling Lucy into his arms when she stood up to greet him, tilting his neck so that Wyatt could nose along his throat.

“Let’s go home,” he murmured.

And they did.


End file.
